Harry Potter: The Dark Redemption
by JosieVang2
Summary: The dark wizard Lord Voldemort formerly known as Tom Riddle is dead. Every piece of his soul has been destroyed by The Boy Who Lived, and the world had its' happy ending - Or so it seemed. An even darker, mysterious dark wizard has waged a war for the past five years after Voldemort's own reign. The planet ravaged and destroyed, Fate makes a last ditch effort to repair it all.
1. Ch 1: A Strange Beginning

A/N. This is my new story! RAWRS! I was SO INSPIRED from reading the two best HP Fanfics in my opinion, The Last Marauder and Nightmares of Future Past, that I decided to make my own now! And I STILL Can't believe no one's EVER thought of doing anything like this but BLEHS at least I get to say I was the first now!

I don't know how long this story will be! But I kinda guess it'll be pretty long! It's pretty long already! -Hugs everyone- I'm kinda also taking that leaf out of those two other best HP Fanfic Time travel stories and having it go through all the seven years of them all! So RAWR! And I do take direct from source text heavily just because Rowling's writing is WAY better than mine and I don't want to disrespect her!

Anyways I'll update this thing every day or few days hopefully! I'm sort of a fat girl at the moment! My wifey says I'm still pretty but GRRRS whatever! -Explodes randomly because explosions are cool-

I have about two months until I have to pop out little Rachel though! -Grits her teeth and goes back to furiously writing HP Fanfic-

And a little disclaimer thingy: I don't own Harry Potter or anything and I'm not using this for money! It's just for fun because I CANT BELIEVE NOBODY HAS EVER MADE A TOM RIDDLE IS A GOOD GUY OR TOM RIDDLE TIME TRAVELS STORY! -Rawrs at the Fanfic community for not already doing this before now-

Okay back to writing! Please review and post nice things about it or I'll throw kittens at you!

(Also a Summary because I didn't know where to put this! But the short summary doesn't do my idea justice so RAWR!)

*Long summary*: The dark wizard Lord Voldemort formerly known as Tom Riddle is dead. Every piece of his soul has been destroyed by The Boy Who Lived, and the wizarding world had its' happy ending - Or so it seemed. An even darker, more ruthless and mysterious dark wizard emerged and waged a war for the past five years after Voldemort's own reign. Against Wizards and Muggles alike. The vow of secrecy has been disbanded. Many lives were lost and families shattered in this new war that many found to be multitudes worse than the second reign of Voldemort.  
Eventually, Harry Potter died and they lost the war, leaving the Earth a barren wasteland.

Nothing was ever enough to win against this new mysterious enemy and his forces. Shadow creatures, other worldy beasts. Nobody could stand against them, not even Harry Potter. However...If there were one more extremely gifted, powerful wizard...Would it have changed the course of BOTH wars? Could it have saved many lives that were lost? Could it save the very souls of those who were lost to darkness?  
And so it's this that causes Fate to intervene, to twist and warp Destiny, Life and Death itself in order to repair and even improve the world. And as the first order of business, it plucks the 11 year old boy Tom Riddle from his time and reality and places him in Privet Drive on a collision course with Harry Potter and his friends.

*Summary end*

A/N End.

Harry Potter: The Dark Redemption

CHAPTER 1: A strange beginning

"Wake up, Tom!" A voice called to him in the dark. "You don't want to be late for the Hogwarts Express do you?" His mother. Tom opened his eyes and sat up in bed with a start. What a dream...He thought, adrenaline coursing through him as he struggled to remember what exactly he'd just been dreaming about.

A series of images flashed by; A graveyard, a pale snake-like man, his mother's ring, an orphanage, a kindly old man with an incredibly long beard and lastly, an older boy with a lightning shaped scar on his forehead surrounded by a blinding green light.

A dream. Just a dream, he thought to himself reassuringly. But it was so strange...

Of course Tom knew all about the wizarding world, he had a fascination with the beasts, and he'd spent his nights until today reading 'Fantastic Beasts Of the Wizarding World and Where to Find Them' as well as reading everything he could about history and most of all: Wand work.

But that brought him back to his dream. He'd never read anything about snake-like people, disfigured, disgusting people...Though he knew of creatures with discolored eyes and eye charms of course, though somehow the (he shuddered to think of it) man in his dream had seemed...Natural.

Tom forgot all about his dream in the excitement of the rest of the day. His mother, Marvello, busied herself with her son's school trunk and his jet black owl. They reached platform nine and three quarters within the hour and saw what the muggles were oblivious to. Some clearly wizards and some in muggle clothing like themselves, the Riddles watched as fellow magic folks passed through the famous invisible stone barrier to the Hogwarts train.

"Right, are we all ready?" Marvello asked her son uneccesarily. She knew Tom had thrown himself rigorously into his school books and prepared himself in every way he could, including for this very moment. She was always proud of his independence and strength of will, though this had led to him not always expressing himself to her.  
She was shaken out of her thoughts as her son answered coolly. "Yes mum." He began walking toward the barrier and she followed him distantly. She knew despite his answer that he was concealing his excitement and joy. Tom's eyes couldn't lie.

This is it. Tom thought happily as he emerged on the other side, trailed by his mother. I did it, I made it. Tom motioned for his owl cage and held it close against himself. The Owl, Merlinus, (Tom had named it after the famous ancient wizard) was becoming agitated by all the commotion and other animals. He spotted a rather large family, all flaming red heads, two lanky boys, twins he supposed. A smaller boy that had to be Tom's own age with a face that seemed permenantly in awe, and beside him was a little girl of about nine next to a rather large woman that was most likely their mother.

The girl was craning her head to look into a train compartment window, though Tom couldn't catch her words as he passed them by to slip onto the train. He walked down the isle until he found a compartment that was empty except for a dark haired boy. This boy was familiar to Tom somehow, though he couldn't quite place it. He shoved that aside for now and asked "Could I sit down? Everywhere else is full."

The boy nodded eagerly, motioning for Tom to sit opposite him. They stared for a while, unsure of what to say to one another. The train began to move. Tom leaned out the window and found his mother. He waved to her, and she smiled and waved back.

Tom could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes. He was troubled, wondering why she'd cry over this, but then stopped thinking about it as another boy caught his attention. It was the red head from earlier.

"Yes?" Tom directed at the newcomer, eyebrow raised slightly. The dark haired boy opposite of him gave the same idiotic smile to the red head that he'd given Tom.

The red head looked sick. He gulped. "The other compartments are full, could I..." He trailed off as a little nose poked out of his pocket which resolved itself into a rat. An angry squirming rat.

Tom took pity on the boy. He nodded to the space next to the strangely familiar dark haired boy. "I suppose introductions are in order, huh?" Tom said softly.

The other two boys looked surprised. Then- "Ron Weasely." The red head muttered, seeming embarrassed by his proclamation.

The dark haired boy offered up, "I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The two turned and stared at Tom, who just raised his eyebrow again. "Tom Riddle." He'd never known a Harry Potter in his life. Somehow he thought he should.

The three began talking about themselves from there, with Ron being the most interesting of the trio, belonging to a purely Wizard family out in the wizarding world. The Potter boy, Tom discovered, was raised by Muggles who detested magic and anyone to do with it. When Harry Potter talked about a zoo visit that ended in trapping his bully of a cousin in a habitat with a python, Tom couldn't help but erupt into peals of laughter. Even Ron Weasely chuckled a little.

Tom countered this with telling Ron and Harry about levitating over a troublesome boy at the muggle school he'd attended during a game of soccer.

"So, do you do magic often?" Harry asked of Tom curiously.

"Yes," Tom answered with a laugh "Don't you? The Ministry for Magic doesn't care what we do, since it's all accidental." He drew air quotes on 'Accidental'.

Harry looked a little troubled at this, but Ron grinned. "You could fit right in with Fred and George, mate." He'd commented.

After a few hours an old woman pushing a trolley cart with candy came by. Harry jumped up eagerly. Tom stood and politely asked for a package of Every Flavour Beans. Ron pulled out an old sandwich and his face turned as red as his hair. It turned even redder when Harry bought an unecessarily large pile of it all and dumped it next to him.

They ate through their food in relative silence, though occassionaly someone would say something like "Did you find Grindelwald?" "I don't have that one yet."

Tom picked up a card that caught his eye for some reason, but then he startled when he saw who was in the miniature portrait. It was an old man with a beard and spectacles. Tom's dream returned to him and suddenly he turned the card over in his hands to read the back. Albus Dumbledore, widely considered to be the most powerful wizard of the ages, is most famous for his triumph over the dark wizard Grindelwald, is the current headmaster of Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Tom wondered furiously how he could dream about a man he had never met before. He knew the wizarding world had Seers, people who could legitimately see into the future and make prophecies, but he didn't think he could be one of those gifted. But...It was the only explanation for this, he reasoned dully with himself. He marked it down as just one more special gift he had that other didn't.

He looked up just as Harry Potter took the card out of his hands and exclaimed wonderingly "So THIS is Dumbledore".

Tom gave the boy an annoyed glare and said spitefully "Didn't you know?" Despite that he hadn't known either. He hadn't read the ENTIRETY of his school books yet, despite how studious and enthralled he was.

Harry didn't answer. Ron looked between the two uneasily. Then the Weasely pulled out his wand. He gave an appreciative grin and said "Who wants to see a spell?"

Harry leaned forward in earnest. Tom studied the Weasely curiously as the boy took out his rat and pointed the wand at it.

"Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" He chanted out, giving the rat a tap. A yellow light flashed from the tip, but did nothing except startle the rat into hiding. Ron looked disappointed, mumbling something about it being a dud.

"Let me try." Tom Riddle said quietly, keeping a spell in mind that he'd read the other night. "You trust me don't you?" Ron nodded and held his rat still. Tom pointed his wand and muttered. "Feliforma".

The effect was near instantanious. The rat grew in size, the ears twisted, the tail grew bushy and within moments Ron had not a rat sitting on his lap, but a bushy white cat. The rat/cat gave out a long mewl, but did little else.

Ron looked sick again, but couldn't stop grinning. Harry was as awe-struck as the red head.  
A noise at the door caused everyone to look up to find a girl with long curly hair and rather large front teeth standing there. Her expression was one of amazement and when Ron asked her what she was doing here, she ignored him.

Her eyes darted between Tom and the rat turned cat. "How did you do that? That's seriously powerful magic! That's third year material!"

Tom narrowed his eyes at the girl. "I just did it. Who are you?"

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry." The girl said quickly "I'm Hermione Granger. And...You are?"

"Tom."

"Have you studied over the summer?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes right back. She seemed flustered, awe-stuck and angry all at once. What was the deal with this girl?

"Yes." Was his simple reply. Though not exactly true. He hadn't actually practiced the spells, but he'd practiced how to do the spells.

Ron coughed. Hermione gave him a scathing look and then backed out of the compartment with her hand on the door handle. "You'd better change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon." Her gaze lingered on Tom and a smile came to her lips. "You should change that rat back." And then she was gone, leaving an angry Ron and a bewildered Harry with a confused Tom Riddle.


	2. Ch 2: The Sorting and Intrigue

A/N.

Hi everyone again! RAWRSY! -Hugs everyone because she loves hugs!- Chapter 2 is here! That's kind of all I gotta say. -Blushes and hides- I also want to reach out to you all and ask WHY THIS THING ISN'T SHOWING MY APOSTRAPHES?! GRRRRRR! -Breathes heavily-

End of A/N.

Harry Potter: The Dark Redemption

Chapter 2: The sorting and intrigue

The train came to a slow halt, and the trio followed the other robed students onto the Hogsmeade platform. A giant of a man (Who Harry explained was called Hagrid) led them all into boats. They glided silently, magically across the lake.

Then the massive Hogwarts castle came into view.

Tom's mouth didn't drop open as Ron or Harry's had, but he was still struck by amazement at the beauty of it and strangely, a sense of coming home.

Hagrid led them into an entrance hall with massive double doors. A stern looking woman with emerald robes was standing there. Tom's first thought of her was that she seemed like someone he shouldn't cross, which she confirmed moments later when she led the first years away from the noise of the other students into a room off the side of the hall.

The nervousness was palpable.

Welcome to Hogwarts, said Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly,  
but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Hermione s unkempt hair, and on Ron s smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

Tom stood calmly, hiding his inner turmoil.

I shall return when we are ready for you, said Professor McGonagall. Please wait quietly.

She left the chamber. Harry swallowed beside Tom.

How exactly do they sort us into houses? Tom asked Ron.

Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.

Harry looked as nervous as Tom felt. Riddle didn't know if he could preform anything in front of the entire school. He'd had anxiety enough with doing that transfiguring spell on the train, though he hadn't let on that he knew it could have gone horribly wrong.

Then something happened that made him startle - Several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?"

Tom couldn't help himself. He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance My dear Friar, haven t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he s not really even a ghost I say, what are you all doing here? A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

New students! said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. About to be Sorted, I suppose? A few people nodded mutely.  
Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! said the Friar. My old house, you know. Move along now, said a sharp voice. The Sorting Ceremony s about to start. Professor McGonagall had returned.

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

Now, form a line, Professor McGonagall told the first years, and follow me.

With that, she took them into the main hall.

Tom eyed everything hungrily. He took in the false sky, the floating candles and torches and all of the already seated students, and most of all, the long table at the far side of the hall where the other teachers were sitting.  
Professor McGonagall led them right up to it and stopped. She silently placed a four legged stool in front of them. On top of it she placed an old hat.  
What was the hat for, he wondered. Would they need to preform some sort of cleaning spell on it? He knew one, scourgefy, so if that was the case, he decided, he'd be more than ready.

Everyone was staring at the hat in complete silence, so Tom gave it a closer look. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened up like a mouth, and it sang a song.

After it was done with and the applause had died down, Mcgonagall stepped forward again and unrolled a large piece of parchment. She spoke again. All the students went quiet. " When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted, she said. Abbott, Hannah!

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause HUFFLEPUFF! shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Tom saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

Bones, Susan!

HUFFLEPUFF! shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

Boot, Terry!

RAVENCLAW!

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. Brocklehurst, Mandy went to Ravenclaw too, but Brown, Lavender became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron s twin brothers catcalling.

Then the name Tom had secretly been expecting since the list was brought out. Granger, Hermione! Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

GRYFFINDOR! shouted the hat. Ron groaned. Tom's lip curled almost instinctively, but he said nothing. For some reason, he didn't know why, maybe it was the colors, but he didn't care for Gryffindor at all. He was more than a little disheartened that the girl had been sent there.

When McGonagall called out a "Malfoy, Draco" a blond haired boy swaggered forward and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, SLYTHERIN! Malfoy went to join two burly looking boys at the Slytherin table, looking pleased.

There weren t many people left now. Moon , Nott , Parkinson , then a pair of twin girls, Ron Weasely and Harry Potter (Who were sent to Gryffindor as well) , then Perks, Sally-Anne , and then, at last

"Riddle, Tom." As Tom stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

Potter, did she say?

TheHarry Potter?

The last thing Tom saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

Ah, said a shocked, small voice in his ear. I see you've already been sorted, though that is of course, impossible. I see it in your head though. Another time, another hall...Very strange. There s undoubted talent and skill, my goodness, yes I see it all now...A twist of fate..Magic unheard of..Atrocities and war...Now that s interesting The world has placed you here for a reason...So where shall I put you? The hat hissed.  
Tom gripped the edges of the stool and suddenly the snake-like man appeared in front of his eyes and desperately he thought, not Slytherin. Somehow he knew that creature, that evil vile creature, would become a reality by his placement.

Not Slytherin, eh? said the small voice. Be warned. The future past could pass again, no matter the placement, boy. There are things within you, hidden things...it s all here in your head. You think your struggle will be easier placed elsewhere? Well, if you re sure better be GRYFFINDOR!

In Tom's shock, he didn't notice that the last word was spoken aloud. He was still steeped in thought as he went to join the Gryffindors, sitting down next to Hermione Granger. He didn't even notice the cheering.

Professor McGonagall rolled up the scroll, then took her seat at the High Table. Tom saw Hagrid on one end give him a light smile and he returned it with a small, absent minded nod. His eyes slid to the strange teacher in a purple turban seated to Hagrid's left.

Tom's eyes moved again, and there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Tom recognized him at once from the card he d gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train as well as his dream that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Dumbledore s silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts who were swooping down upon the tables.

Tom looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. Nonetheless, he sat calmly, hands folded in front of him.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

Welcome, he said. Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Ron was laughing, and Harry had his fist in his mouth to stop from laughing too.

Tom resisted the urge himself and turned to Percy the Prefect. Is he a bit mad? He asked uncertainly.

Mad? said Percy airily. He s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Chicken, Tom?

Tom gave a start of surprise as he looked back at his plate. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Remembering his mother's scolding, Tom politely took some carrots and a steak and began to eat.

That does look good, said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Tom cut up his steak.

Can t you ? Ron began.

I haven t eaten for nearly five hundred years, said the ghost. I don t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don t think I ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.

I know who you are! said Ron suddenly. My brothers told me about you you re Nearly Headless Nick!

I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn t going at all the way he wanted. Like this , he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, So new Gryffindors! I hope you re going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron s becoming almost unbearable he s the Slytherin ghost.

Tom looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Tom saw, didn t look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

How did he get covered in blood? asked Tom curiously.

"I've never asked." Nearly Headless Nick said delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding.

As Tom nibbled on a doughnut, the talk turned to their families.

What about you, Tom? said Ron.  
Well," Tom started slowly. The one thing he was leery about was discussing blood-line and family. His mother had always impressed upon him that it didn't matter and was worthless to discuss anyway. But he didn't want to be left out, so he offered up "my mother and I have lived together since I was born. She s a witch. But I'm a half blood, since she had married a muggle in her youth, obviously. The man left her shortly after I was born."

Everyone expressed their sympathies and the subject quickly changed to Quidditch.

Tom listened in on Percy Weasley and Hermione talking about lessons ( I do hope they start right away, there s so much to learn, I m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it s supposed to be very difficult She gave Tom a meaningful glance and a tight smile at that as Percy responded, You ll be starting small,  
just matches into needles and that sort of thing ).

Tom, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

Then it happened. The hooked nosed teacher looked across the distance, straight into Tom's eyes. Even across the hall, Tom saw the teacher's face twist into an expression of pure shock and surprise, and he felt a series of sharp pains in his skull.

Tom clapped his hands around his head at the near agony.

What's the matter?" Hermione asked quickly, her face full of concern.

N-nothing. Tom said reassuringly. Though he wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure; Hermione, or himself?

But the pains had gone as quickly as they had come. Who s that teacher talking to the one in the turban? he asked Percy.

Oh, that's Professor Quirrell. The other is Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn t want to everyone knows he s after Quirrell s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.

Tom watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn t look at him again, for which he was very glad about.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

Ahem just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. Dumbledore s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.

Beside Tom, Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

He s not serious? Tom muttered dubiously to Percy.  
Must be, said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. It s odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we re not allowed to go somewhere the forest s full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Cried Dumbledore. Tom noticed the other teacher's expressions become rather fixed.

Tom knew why as he sat through the next few minutes. Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

Ah, music, he said, wiping his eyes. A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot! The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Tom's legs were like lead, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet. Soon Tom was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.  
Peeves, Percy whispered to the first years. A poltergeist. He raised his voice, Peeves show yourself.

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

Oooooooh! he said, with an evil cackle. Ickle Firsties! What fun!

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

Go away, Peeves, or the Baron ll hear about this, I mean it! barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville s head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

You want to watch out for Peeves, said Percy, as they set off again. The Bloody Baron s the only one who can control him, he won t even listen to us prefects. Here we are.

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress. Password? she said.

Caput Draconis, said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.

They all scrambled through it Ron needed a hand getting up and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase they were obviously in one of the towers they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

Tom heard Ron mutter something about his rat chewing through his sheets as he fell asleep almost instantly.

That night, Tom had another strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell s turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Tom told the turban he didn t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully and there was the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, laughing at him as he struggled with it then Snape suddenly turned into the snake man whose laugh became high and cold there was a burst of green light and Tom woke, sweating and shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn t remember the dream at all.


	3. Ch 3: Lesson learned, Lesson Unlearned

A/N.

Chapter 3 is here, YAY! -Blows a balloon up and passes it to everyone- Happy almost Halloween! WEEEEEEE! I want a Halloween baby, but GRRRRS I can't just pop Rachy out whenever I feel like it! I wish though! Then my little girl would literally get to have her cake and eat it! -Grins-

-SCREAMS!- FANFIC WHY ARE YOU RUINING MY STORY MORE AND MORE?! IT'S NOT REGISTERING APOSTRAPHES, OR THOSE LITTLE QUOTE THINGYS TO SHOW DIALOGUE IN BOOKS! -CRIES- WHY FANFIC WHY?! HOW DOES EVERYONE ELSE DO THIS?

Heeeeeeeeeeeeelp! I'll give a poptart to anyone who helps!

End of A/N.

Harry Potter: The Dark Redemption

Chapter 3: Lessons learned, Lessons unlearned.

Tom was sitting patiently in Trasfiguration with Hermione Granger the next day, his first class, when Ron Weasely and Harry Potter stumbled in. He was amused as the two looked confusedly around for Professor Mcgonagall, who was sitting on the desk after having explained about Animagi, people who could turn into animals, and then proceeded to do so herself: Before the two had arrived.

She transformed back and smiled at their dumbstruck expressions, then told them to take their seats.

"Transfiguration is the most difficult kind of magic to learn and preform, anyone fooling around will be kicked out of the class and will not return." She said sternly.

They all took notes, then spent the next few minutes trying to turn matches into needles. Tom had his perfectly transformed on his first try. The class gaped openly at him, and even Professor McGonagall couldn't mask her shock. She looked about to burst into tears or hug him. "Twenty points to Gryffindor" She choked out.

Tom hid his head in his hands at that point.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell s lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

What have we got today? Harry asked Tom on Friday morning.

Double Potions with the Slytherins, said Tom coolly. He was secretly dreading being in the same room with the man who'd caused him that unbearable pain his first night here. Snape s Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them we ll be able to see if it s true. And if he'll try hurting me again, Tom added silently.

Wish McGonagall favored us, said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn t stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.  
Just then, the mail arrived. Tom had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Though in hindsight, Tom shouldn't have been too surprised. Once he'd gotten over the shock of it, he'd writtenand sent a letter off back to his mother with Merlinus, telling her all about his first day, and now he saw he had a letter in return.  
He borrowed Ron's quill and read his mother's letter silently.

"Hogwarts sounds better than Durmstrang, at the least. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, and I'm so proud you've already made friends! Keep it up! Love: Mom.  
P.S: Don't forget to keep writing."

Tom spun the quill in his hand and simply wrote back, "I won't forget". Then sent Merlin' off again.

Harry received an invitation to Hagrid's hut out near the Forbidden Forest.

Professor Snape strode into the dungeon classroom for Potions, cloak billowing behind him giving him the appearance of a large bat. He spun to face them with an expression that clearly said he wished nothing more than to be somewhere else.

His gaze swept over the class and settled on Tom for a heartbeat, who stared right back.

Snape looked away, then his gaze fell on- "Mr. Potter." He said in a low voice, "Tell me, what would you do if I told you to fetch me a bezoar?"

Harry sat quietly before answering, "I don't know sir".

Tom watched interestedly. How did the professor expect Harry to know that? It was an unfair pop quiz, as the muggles complained about. And did it seem to him that the professor was looking at Harry with more loathing than usual?

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?

Hermione's hand shot up again, and Ron Weasley looked perplexed. Tom didn't have a clue either, though he'd never have said so. He had taken a useful Muggle phrase to heart. Better to remain silent and be called a fool than to speak and remove all doubt. He wondered offhandedly how Hermione could possibly know the answer, unless she were something of a super genius.

"I don't know sir." Came Harry's rote reply again. Snape's lip curled into a sneer that Tom grudgingly respected.

"Thought you'd parade into the school without even opening up a book, eh Potter?" He continued on in a voice nearly a whisper, putting his face so close to Harry's they were nose to nose. "Like father like son Potter, you expect student and staff to kiss your arrogant feet, well I have news for you, Potter...You won't receive the same wasted attentions your father did."

Snape straightened up, face white with fury, and snapped, "Turn to page two hundred and seven and copy down the information given. And five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your lack of preparation."

Hermione's hand flew up once again. "Professor, Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it's known as the Drought of Living Dead and a Beazor-"

Snape's face drained of what little color it had left. "Mrs. Granger! No one in this room has asked for you to show off! Ten points from Gryffindor, and an additional five for interrupting me. Do not make it fifty!"

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the lesson continued.

Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people s shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

Idiot boy! snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

Take him up to the hospital wing, Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Tom, who had been silently and diligently working next to Neville.

You Potter why didn t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That s another point you ve lost for Gryffindor.

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Tom gave him a warning look. It wouldn't do them any good to lose more points, he thought resignedly.

Cheer up, said Ron as they were exiting the class, Snape s always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

Harry agreed happily to it, and asked if Tom wanted to join them. He declined, since he had business in the library this evening. He'd already made plans to research Professor Snape's "Pain stare" after Harry had told him he'd felt it too, their first night.

At three to five Tom's two friends left the castle, and he walked into the impressive library room alone, marvelling at all the books on massive shelves. He walked around feeling slightly hopeless with his task. He came across a stack of books in a corner, and behind them he found none other than Hermione Granger.

She didn't notice him even when he was right behind her. She jumped when he tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Oh, hello Tom! What brings you here?"

He smiled. Maybe she can help, he thought cheerfully. "I'm looking into a rare bit of magic. Wandless magic." He told her, thinking such a broad topic would save him from the embarrassment of having to tell her about Snape.

"Really? That's quite interesting!" She said it so sincerely that his smile widened. "I'm just brushing up on some History, myself. It's all fascinating."

"Do you think you could help me? It might be good to take some time away from that History." He said, his smile turning to an amused smirk.

She returned his smile, making his stomach flutter oddly. "I'm sure I can find a number of books that would help! I might need a week or two but I'm sure I can find them!"

"Thank you."

For the next two hours, they sat together, reading through the History books until the Librarian barked at them to go back to their dormitory.


	4. Ch 4: Flying Fancies

A/N: Fanfic issues are hurting my soul! -Cries more- I'll give anybody TWO Poptarts now for help!

This is a short chapter because I need a breather! I just had to post it real quicksy now while my Wifey and I go to the movies! We're going to Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2!

End of A/N.

Harry Potter: The Dark Redemption

Chapter 4: Flying Fancies

Almost a week later, Ron, Harry, Tom and Hermione were huddled around a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

Typical, said Harry darkly. Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.

Tom knew Harry had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else so far. The boy had taken an instant liking to Quidditch, though Tom personally didn't see what was so enticing about the whole thing, and wondered if he could skip the lesson entirely. He could go with Hermione to the Library again, even. She wasn't too keen on flying either, and she enjoyed their studying as much as he did.

You don t know that you ll make a fool of yourself, said Ron reasonably. Anyway, I know Malfoy s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that s all talk.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn t the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he d spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick.

Even Ron would tell anyone who d listen about the time he d almost hit a hang glider on Charlie s old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn t see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Tom was. But he knew it was for different reasons. This was something you couldn t learn by heart out of a book not that she hadn t tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she d gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Ron was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was pleased when Hermione s lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

A barn owl brought a skinny first year who Tom didn't know a small package. The boy opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke. It s a Remembrall! he explained. My mum knows I forget things this tells you if there s something you ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red oh His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, you ve forgotten something .

The boy was trying to remember what he d forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, Tom knew. He wanted the same thing, but nothing good would come of it.

He remained seated.

Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

What s going on?

Malfoy s got my Remembrall, Professor.

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.  
Just looking, he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Tom, Harry and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Harry had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. Well, what are you all waiting for? she barked. Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.

Tom glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. He wondered how he'd even fly it.

Stick out your right hand over your broom, called Madam Hooch at the front, and say Up!

UP everyone shouted.

To Tom's annoyance, his broom rattled, but didn't move otherwise. Harry s broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger s had simply rolled over on the ground, which made Tom feel a little better about his. and Ron's hadn t moved at all. Perhaps brooms could tell when you were afraid, thought Tom; there was a quaver in Ron s voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Then Madam Hooch showed them all how to properly mount the brooms without falling off the ends.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, I want all of you to kick off from the ground hard, hover for a moment, and then touch back down."


End file.
